


A King's Reprieve

by just_a_loser



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: CGRE - Caregiver/Age Regressor, F/M, Gen, Mentions of execution, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24586171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_loser/pseuds/just_a_loser
Summary: “Have you noticed anything strange about Arthur recently?”Gwen looked up, her attention thoroughly caught. “Strange? What do you mean?”“He’s been acting more...amicable.”“Amicable?”“Yea. I was just wondering if you’d noticed anything like that.”“I might not be the best person to ask, since he’s always been pretty amicable with me.” She smiled. “But you know he’s quite fond of you, Merlin, it could be he’s just starting to show it a bit more.”“Seems out of character for him, ‘s all I’m saying.”
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	A King's Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in early season 4, but Agravaine does not exist because he AggraVATES the hell out of me and this is a self-indulgent fic so to hell with it

Merlin pushed the curtains aside, letting sunlight streak into the king’s room. “Rise and-” As he turned around, the words died on his lips. Arthur, who had just woken, had his thumb in his mouth. Their eyes met: Merlin’s curious, Arthur’s...nervous? Of all the words to describe Arthur, nervous was not one of them. 

Merlin drew in breath as if to speak, but Arthur beat him to it. “Not a word,” he said, glaring at his servant as he got out of bed. 

“I...haven’t got one,” Merlin said. There was nothing in particular he had to say, and even if there was, he wouldn’t know where to start. 

“Well?” Arthur said, pulling his shirt up from the hem. “Aren’t you going to dress me?”

…

It was when Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers to finish up his nightly tasks that Arthur spoke. “About this morning,” he began as Merlin approached him where he sat at his writing desk. He looked up at his servant, meeting his gaze. “I would appreciate your discretion.”

Merlin cocked an eyebrow. “What, didja think I would go around the castle telling everyone just how much of a royal prat you are?” Joke as he might, Merlin would never go around sharing such intimate details with anyone, not even Gaius. He said as much: “It’s not my place.”

Arthur nodded. “Good.” He stood from his desk and walked over to the privacy screen to dress. “I need you to look over the speech I’ve left on my desk and have it back to me tomorrow,” came his voice from beyond the screen. 

“You have a speech to make tomorrow?” Merlin asked, gathering the clothes Arthur had flung over the top of the screen.

“Honestly, Merlin, do you pay attention to anything besides yourself?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Do you?” he mumbled.

“I heard that,” Arthur said as he emerged from behind the screen in his night clothes. He walked over to the bed as Merlin scooped the parchment from the desk.

“Anything else?”

“That’ll be all.”

Merlin nodded, leaning down to blow out the candles placed on the desk.

“Leave one of the candles,” Arthur said as he settled back against his pillows.

“Afraid of the dark, are you?” Merlin teased, but complied.

Arthur scowled. “Do you ever just do as you’re told?”

“I think you know the answer to that question better than anyone else, sire.” And with that, Merlin was off.

…

“Merlin?” A few days had passed, and neither had spoken of the less than usual happenings of that day. Today, however, Merlin hadn’t shown up to wake Arthur as he normally would. It wasn’t something that hadn’t happened before, but either way Arthur was less than pleased. How was he supposed to get dressed without his servant?

“Merlin!” He called again, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at the door. As if staring at it would make Merlin suddenly appear.

He could go out and look for him, but that’s a lot of work! He wanted Merlin here, now. Why couldn’t he just get what he wanted? He was the king, after all!

Arthur huffed, pulling his legs up and crossing them where he sat. Where on earth could he be? The tavern? The very thought made Arthur scowl and cross his arms. He knew Merlin well and he knew him not to be a drunkard; what business would he have in the tavern as often as Gaius claimed? Other than skipping out on work, that is. 

Arthur groaned, letting his eyes fall shut. He just wanted Merlin, was that too much to ask?

Apparently not, as it was a few moments later that Merlin popped in through the door.

Arthur’s eyes popped open, his heart leaping but his scowl deepening. “What took you so long?”

“Got caught up in the kitchens, sorry,” Merlin said, setting a plate of biscuits and sausages on the table on his way to the king. 

“You were s’posed to be here,” Arthur mumbled, watching Merlin as he shuffled through his drawers.

“Well I’m here now,” Merlin supplied, not looking up from his task.

That wasn’t good enough for Arthur. “You were s’posed to be here earlier,” he said, his lip jutting out ever so slightly. 

Merlin turned to look at Arthur, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was pouting. “You can thank Cook for that, she nearly had my arse on a plate. That woman’s mad, I swear.” He waited for Arthur to stand and undress, but he remained sitting.

“Needed you here and you weren’t here,” Arthur insisted, looking downright grumpy. 

“Is this some new tactic?” Merlin said, tossing the clothes on the bed behind Arthur. “Trying to guilt me into being a better servant?”

“It’s the truth!” Arthur insisted. “You weren’t where I wanted you to be and it’s not fair!” He huffed in annoyance once more.

Merlin sputtered, feeling as though he were arguing with a spoiled toddler. “You can’t have your way all the time!”

Arthur gasped. “Why not? I’m the king!”

“You’re just a prat with a crown.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!’

“Okay,” Merlin conceded. “You’re King prat, alright, now take off your shirt, you have to get to training.”

…

“Fetch a comb, will you?” Arthur was winding down for bed, freshly bathed and freshly dressed, sitting on his bed with his back to the headboard. 

Merlin took the comb from Arthur’s bedside drawer and attempted to hand it to him. He didn’t take it, instead motioning to his head. “You can’t comb your own hair?” Merlin asked incredulously.

“What d’you think servants are for?”

“Enabling laziness?” Merlin suggested, only to be met with a smack on the side of the head from a pillow. 

“Well come on then!” 

Merlin looked at Arthur. He was sitting in the center of the bed, meaning he wouldn’t be able to comfortably reach his thick head from where he was standing. Which was the closest place he could be if not sitting. With a sigh, he gingerly sat on the satin comforter. It wasn’t as though he’d never sat on the bed before, that wasn’t his hesitation. It was that Arthur was already there. The two of them, sitting on the bed. It was odd, and even though Merlin often crossed boundaries concerning servants and their masters, this seemed too...too much. 

He raised the comb to the head of hair in front of him, gently running it through a section. “Is there nothing you can do yourself?” he muttered, feeling as though the situation were oddly delicate. 

“Merlin. Just.” Arthur hesitated. “Tell me about your day.”

Merlin felt as though his ears were playing tricks on him. “What? You’re always telling me to shut up. You’re actually asking me to talk?”

“For the amount you run your mouth one would think you’d be happy to comply.” Arthur retorted. “And why’ve you stopped?” He motioned towards the comb. 

Merlin tilted his head quizzically. What on earth had gotten into him? “Fine.” He continued running the comb through the king’s hair, rambling aimlessly on about Gaius, his time in the armoury, marketplace, and kitchens. As he prattled on, he felt Arthur leaning against him, first into his shoulder, then into his chest. It wasn’t until he’d stopped combing his hair and trailed off in silence that he spoke. “Arthur.”

“Mmm?” came his response. Looking down, Merlin could see that Arthur had closed his eyes. It wasn’t but a millisecond later that they popped open.

Arthur hastily sat up, brushing at his face. “I-I’ve forgotten myself.” He cleared his throat. “You’re dismissed.” 

Merlin opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it. He stood from the bed, tucking the comb away in its drawer before excusing himself. 

…

It was the next day that Merlin bumped into just the person he wanted to see. “Gwen!”

“Good morning, Merlin. Out fetching supplies for Gaius?” she asked.

“I never get a break,” he grinned, falling into pace beside her. “I wanted to talk to you about something, actually.”

“Yes?” Gwen slowed her pace, stopping to feel a piece of fabric from a stall. 

“Have you noticed anything strange about Arthur recently?”

Gwen looked up, her attention thoroughly caught. “Strange? What do you mean?”

“He’s been acting more...amicable.”

“Amicable?” 

“Yea. I was just wondering if you’d noticed anything like that.”

“I might not be the best person to ask, since he’s always been pretty amicable with me.” She smiled. “But you know he’s quite fond of you, Merlin, it could be he’s just starting to show it a bit more.”

“Seems out of character for him, ‘s all I’m saying.”

“Oh hush, Merlin, I know you won’t admit it but you’re fond of him as well.”

“You’re right. I won’t.” They both chuckled at that, and continued on their separate ways. 

…

Another week, another attempt on Arthur’s life. It wasn’t until the evening after the execution that things were sent into turmoil. 

“Merlin. Am I a bad person?” These were the first words he’d spoken since addressing his people at the execution. 

“I’d say you’re more of a dollophead,” Merlin said, falling into the habit of responding with an insult. 

When Arthur didn’t reply, Merlin looked up from his polishing. Arthur was staring blankly into space, his face forlorn. “You’re not serious?”

Arthur’s only response was to blink.

“Of course you’re not a bad person! You’ve got the purest heart of any man I’ve ever known, Arthur. You’re a damn good person.” It only took a few words to pull the sincerity from Merlin.

“But I’m not,” Arthur mumbled.

“Why do you say that?” This was making Merlin nervous. Arthur’s demeanor was not the same as when he doubted himself, this was something Merlin had never seen before. 

“I killed someone. Not in battle, I ordered someone to die. How can you be a good person if you order someone to be killed?” He looked distraught, his head hanging in shame. 

“He made an attempt on your life, Arthur, he committed treason! You did what you had to, you upheld the law. That man was not a good man, he was a murderer. Don’t lose sleep over him, he’d have seen you dead.” Merlin knew well of Arthur’s struggle in conscience, but this was nothing to debate over. The man had done something wrong, very wrong, and in this case, execution was inevitable. Arthur knew that, and had never shown any struggle with this before. 

It was when Merlin saw tears streak down the king’s face that he was truly floored. He rushed over to him, sitting on the bed beside him. “Arthur! What- what’s happened?”

And suddenly Arthur’s hands held his shirt and Merlin expected to be shoved away. Instead, he was pulled close, Arthur burying his face in his chest as he started to sniffle. “‘m a bad person,” he repeated, sounding defeated. “And I don’t know what I’m doing. And-” His sniffling escalated to sobs. “It’s so hard, Merlin!” he choked out. “Everyone expects me to know what to do and be a good king and everyone’s watching me all the time and I can’t do anything wrong and- and-”

Merlin pulled him closer. “Breathe, Arthur. You’re okay, it’s okay. Calm down. I know it can’t be easy but let’s take this one moment at a time, alright? Don’t think about any of that right now. Let’s focus on what’s happening right now. Can you tell me where we are?”

Arthur struggled to control his breathing, sobs still coming through. “M-my chambers,” he mumbled.

“And what are we doing?” Merlin was carefully controlling his breathing as well, trying not to panic. Never had he seen Arthur like this, and truth be told it scared him. He’d seen him vulnerable before, but never like this. It was always an open vulnerability, something to be admired and lucky to be on the receiving end but this, this was something Merlin never wanted to see. It was beyond vulnerability, it was helplessness. 

“S-s-sitting on my b-bed.”

“We are. Is the fireplace lit?”

Arthur nodded.

“Can you look around and tell me three things that are in this room?”

“Uh,” Arthur hiccuped. “Sword. Boots.” As his eyes scanned the room, his breathing slowed, the tears no longer freely falling from his face. “Cupboard.”

“Good. Good. You’re not alone, Arthur, alright? You don’t have to deal with all this alone. I will do everything in my power to help. Not that that means much,” he cracked a small smile, “but I mean it.” 

Arthur wiped at his eyes and nodded, still not pulling away from Merlin. 

“Is there anything else you need, Arthur?”

The king shook his head.

“I should be taking my leave then.”

Merlin felt Arthur’s grip tighten on his shirt. “No.”

“No?”

“I-I want you to stay.” Arthur didn’t meet his gaze.

“You’re sure?” Tonight was full of surprises, it seemed.

“Mhm,” Arthur hummed into his shirt. 

How could Merlin deny after the previous display? If Arthur needed company, company he would get. And sleeping on a bed fit for a king? He sure wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 


End file.
